


Waiting On Someone New

by WorseOmens



Series: Good Omens Outsider POVs [20]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gift Fic, Misunderstandings, OC Waiter - Freeform, Other, They/Them Pronouns for Crowley (Good Omens), humans love Aziraphale, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:08:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25993426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorseOmens/pseuds/WorseOmens
Summary: Aziraphale has an audit and a date in the same restaurant a few short weeks apart, and the wait staff takes notice.(A gift for CrazyBeCat!)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley
Series: Good Omens Outsider POVs [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1545919
Comments: 51
Kudos: 925
Collections: Good Omens





	Waiting On Someone New

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CrazyBeCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyBeCat/gifts).



Dan had worked hard for this job. Waiting on tables in swanky restaurants was not only better paid than a standard waiting job, but also much more finicky. His bosses had spent an inordinate amount of time training him for every eventuality. He narrowed his main duties down to three things: punctuality, politeness and above all, attentiveness. A good waiter kept track of all their tables, ready to nip any problems in the bud. High-end restaurants never tolerated problems. Personally, Dan thought their snobbish clientele could use a few more problems in their lives sometimes, though he was never allowed to say so. Service with a smile, bitching behind closed doors. 

Well... perhaps not _all_ the customers he served were so bad. He'd first met his favourite regular diner during his first week; Mr Fell wore so much beige and cream fabric that he looked almost custom-made for the gold-accented restaurant interior. Dan's boss had immediately pushed him out to greet him and show him to his table, insisting that this was a perfect customer for a beginner. Dan had his doubts. Fell walked with his chin held high, his eyes sweeping the room like a searchlight, and waited by the door with an expectant air. He was alone. 

Dan approached him gingerly. "H - Hello sir," he said, cursing himself for stammering. "My name's Dan, I'll be your waiter for tonight. Table for one?"

"Two, actually. I'm expecting company," he replied sourly, as if he wasn't looking forward to it. He suddenly brightened, and Dan found himself reeling from the tone shift. "Oh, dear me, how rude of me. You're new, aren't you?"

He blinked. "Yes, sir, I am," he replied. "It's my first week."

"How exciting! Well, I wish you all the best, and I shall do my best not to be too troublesome," he said brightly, with an encouraging smile. 

Dan nodded numbly, and hesitantly began to take him over to his table. He presented him with a menu, though judging by the way he glanced over it, he already knew every item on the list even better than the wait staff. He ordered some wine while he waited, and Dan found himself relaxing almost unconsciously by the time he poured it out for him. His manager peeked out from the kitchen doors, giving him a broad grin and thumbs up before ducking back out again. Dan chuckled. Maybe he had a point; Mr Fell was a good beginner’s customer. 

Dan retreated back to the eaves of the room, where he could linger unobtrusively and watch for any disgruntled diners. The more experienced waiters usually reacted quicker than him, but he was slowly improving. A few minutes passed. Mr Fell, he noticed, was checking his watch and twisting the wine glass by the stem. He looked slightly ill. Dan chewed the inside of his cheek, wondering if he should go over and check in. It didn’t seem to be a problem with the atmosphere, though. Perhaps he was being stood up. Dan’s heart ached a little for him; he’d been there, and it was never easy. He snapped back to reality when someone nudged him in the ribs on their way to the kitchens.

“Man by the door,” they hissed, jerking their head. “Hop to it.”

He jumped, nodding frantically, and scurried off to the door. The customer waiting there tapped his foot and huffed as he approached, readjusting the pale scarf around his neck. Dan smiled. “Hello. Do you have a reservation with us tonight, sir?” he said, trying not to tremble under those purple eyes. 

“I’m meeting someone,” he said curtly. “The table is under his name. Fell.”

He blinked. “Oh. Um, this way, then,” he said, taken aback. Was this Mr Fell’s date? Must be. Who else would he be dining with on a Saturday night, in a restaurant so expensive? He led the man to the table, hoping that Mr Fell would brighten up a little at the sight of his date. To his concern, his smile looked strained. 

Dan tried to hand the newcomer a menu. Gabriel held up his hand dismissively. “Not for me,” he said with a thick layer of condescension. “Too many, uh... what is it you call it? Calories.”

“Right,” he said. That was odd. He turned to Mr Fell, who had been tucking into some warm bread just moments ago. “And you, sir? Are you ready to order?”

Aziraphale glanced at Gabriel. “Um. The, um, the salad, perhaps,” he said reluctantly, handing back his menu. He’d had his eye on the pork belly starter, but during his bi-millennial audit? Best not to aggravate things. 

“Can I recommend a side dish, sir? The coleslaw pairs excellently with the salad, and — ”

“Salad is more than enough for him,” Gabriel cut in sharply. His harsh tone was enough to startle Dan into silence, almost breaking through his customer service mask. He barely managed to contain his disgust. How dare he! If Mr Fell liked to eat, why shouldn’t he? He looked expectantly at Mr Fell, hoping he’d change his mind and order something more substantial. He only sighed.

“The salad will do,” he assured him. Dan nodded, taking the menu back with a sympathetic look. As he walked away from the table, he caught the first half of their conversation.

“Now, Aziraphale. Why don’t you start by telling me who you’ve been associating with since we last spoke?”

Dan’s blood boiled. Oh, come on! That was blatantly controlling. He’d known Mr Fell for all of about half an hour, and they’d exchanged a handful of words, but he’d already developed a soft spot for him. He had a gentle, soft-spoken manner that reminded him of a wise librarian, intelligent and well-travelled. His clothes were delightfully quirky, bordering on eccentric. His default setting seemed to be, well... soft. In short, he was deeply endearing, and Dan couldn’t stand to see him being bullied by that awful corporate imitation of a human opposite him. He told the manager, who went very red in the face when he discovered that Mr Fell had only ordered a salad. He’d never done that. He had a taste for rich, complex foods, not the crisp simplicity of leaves on a plate. Granted, it was a very upmarket interpretation of a salad, but still an out-of-character order. If Gabriel could feel the burning glares the wait staff were shooting him all night, he didn’t let on. He kept grilling Aziraphale about his activities since the last audit, visibly deflating his mood further and further with every oblique insult and backhanded criticism. 

Mr Fell tipped generously by the end of his paltry one-course (!) meal. He left the restaurant with none of his customary satisfaction, and a weak smile. Dan could’ve broken Gabriel’s nose then and there. What an awful boyfriend! He didn’t know what Mr Fell saw in him.

He all but forgot about that upsetting night until several weeks later, when he spotted a white coat from the corner of his eye. He speed-walked to the door, smugly overtaking his shorter colleague, and stopped in front of Mr Fell with a beaming smile. “Welcome back, Mr Fell,” he said. “Table for one?”

“Two,” he said kindly. Dan’s heart dropped. Not that prick again, surely...

“Right this way, sir,” he said, almost reluctant to lead him over to that very same table. He chewed his lip, wondering if it would be rude to ask. “Is it a date tonight, Mr Fell?”

He blushed slightly, settling into his chair. “It is, as a matter of fact. A little celebration,” he said with a giddy smile. He held up his hand, shaking his head when Dan tried to hand him the wine list. “Not yet, thank you. I’ll wait until my, ah — my partner arrives. They have excellent taste.”

“Of course,” he said, inclining his head. “Just give me a shout if you need anything.”

“Yes, thank y — oh! Speak of the devil!” he said, doing a double take as he glanced over the door. A sharp-faced, androgynous redhead pushed their way through the entrance without waiting to be greeted, heading straight for the table in a strange swaying gait. 

“Sorry I’m late, angel,” they said, throwing themselves into the chair beside him. They leaned forward, giving him a peck on the cheek. Dan glanced down, feeling as if he was intruding on a private moment — but what had happened to the asshole in grey? Well, a freak accident, hopefully... “Traffic was a nightmare. You ordered yet?”

“I was just holding off. Red or white?” he said, making a vague gesture at the wine list.

They hummed. “White,” they said, slouching back in their chair, poking their sunglasses a little further up their nose. “We can open another bottle back at your place too, if you like.”

“That sounds lovely,” he said. “Remind me — do I owe you one this time, or was it the other way around?”

The demon’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Who’s counting?” they said with a playful tone. “Tell you what, dinner’s on me tonight. Order anything you like, everything you like.”

His ears pricked up. “Everything?” he said. His smile began to spread to Dan, too; what an improvement over his last partner!

“Obviously. We’re celebrating,” they said, then nodded toward the waiter. “You’d better tell the boy, though, or this place’ll be shut before we finish our mains.”

Aziraphale gave a start, and finally seemed to remember that Dan was there. “Oh! Of course, silly me,” he said, chuckling at himself, flushed with happiness and love so deep that even a human could sense it in the air. It warmed Dan through like warm cocoa on a winter’s day. “The pork belly starter for me, please. It looks absolutely scrummy!”

Dan beamed, writing the order down on his pad of paper. “Excellent choice, sir,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at the demon who was too besotted with their angel to notice his gaze. “Excellent choice.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this specially for my friend CrazyBeCat, who’s been an absolute gift when it comes to helping me develop and talk about my stories. They’re an all-round wonderful person and I’m so glad to know them! Hope they enjoy this <3


End file.
